


Bob and Weave

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Bodily Distress, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Deepthroating, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Oral Sex, Training, Vomiting, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scout is intent on learning how to fight unarmed, and conscripts his enormous boxer of a boyfriend, Heavy, to teach him.  Heavy things Scout should start with proper training.  Scout thinks learning is best accomplished via immersion.  He forgets how much a fist to the gut hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bob and Weave

"Am not sure is sort of thing for you," Heavy hemmed, trying to be delicate enough to avoid inflaming Scout's temper. The younger man was prone to long-winded boasting when he felt his masculinity was being challenged, and the last thing Heavy wanted to bother with was another of his lover's flexing diatribes.

"You kiddin'? I can bash some chucklefuck's head in like it's nothin'! I can totally hold my own in one-on-one, I just wanna get better at doin' it without a weapon in hand, yanno? In case I get disarmed or can't find nothin'. An' punchin' shit? That's like your thing, Big Guy," Scout explained, rolling his shoulders as he bounced about on the balls of his feet. His dog tags jingled as they bounced against the white cotton of his tank top.

He was certainly full of energy, the noise reminding Heavy of the collar tags of an excited puppy. "Da, this is true. But maybe train first? Strength, lifting, hitting bag, toughen knuckles and hands? Proper boxing training. Is not so proper to demand fist fight from man with several championship belts," the giant warned with a frown. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, wrapped hands tucking in against his hairy skin.

"I ain't got time for that kinda shit! I learned how to cave in skulls by havin' to do it! Ya learn to fight by fightin'!" Scout punched at the air in front of him, juking about and shadow boxing.

His form was horrible. "Do not like hurting you."

"Not what you said last night," the runner teased with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Last night did not have time for words."

"Yeah, you were too busy puttin' these on me," Scout shot, tugging down the waist of his sweats to reveal finger-sized bruises on his hips.

Heavy's eyes lingered on them a moment. Yes, he'd been very busy doing that. With a sigh, he dropped his arms to his sides, wiping his fingers idly against his sweatpants. "You insist on this."

"Gimme your best shot!" Scout put up his dukes, bouncing from foot to foot.

With a sigh that spoke of infinite suffering, Heavy returned the gesture. He furrowed his brow, and approached.

Scout lashed out first, hoping to catch Heavy by surprise, his fist flying wildly for the giant's jaw. A mighty paw came up and grabbed hold of his wrist, stopping the blow before it could land, and he brought his other fist up from below, ramming it into Scout's gut with what he'd hoped was only enough force to make him take things seriously.

Instead, he slumped in Heavy's grasp, and when his wrist was released, slumped to the mat. Scout hesitated a moment, not wanting to move, being afraid to move, as his insides crumpled in on themselves and compressed. His vision blurred, his mouth grew explosively moist, and he felt spit leaking from his lips.

Heavy began to kneel, to check on his lover, but was interrupted as Scout lurched for the spitoon bucket in the corner and ejected his breakfast into it. His gagging cough echoed from the metal bucket, accompanied by the heavy splatter of partially digested food, and the second retch of thinner liquid that followed. The giant didn't approach, letting Scout sick it out, his shoulders hunched up with each new volley that forced its way violently out of him. He could hear the smaller man sobbing, shivering as he voiced his agony in a gurgling wail while the last of his stomach's contents left his body. He snuffled a bit, quickly dissuaded by the acidic pain in his nose, and spit a few times into the bucket, ridding his befouled mouth of any chunks that clung inside.

Scout tugged his shirt over his head, his tags jingling in protest, and wiped his face with it. He crumpled it up into a ball and blew his nose a few times, sniffling with a groan before repeating the process to satisfaction. When he was done, he dropped it in the bucket, deeming it a lost cause, and flopped to his side in a heap. He moaned softly in desolation.

"Moy krolik?" Heavy asked, more than a little surprised by the rather calm way his lover had gone about his episode. It had certainly been an event, but the efficiency with which he cleaned up spoke to experience. How many times had he thrown up in his life? The giant approached him and snatched the water bottle he'd left in the corner, popping it open and pressing it into the runner's hands.

He gripped at it greedily, raising it to his lips and suckling at it for water. First he sloshed it about in his mouth, then hefted himself up to spit into the bucket before curling back up and trying to rehydrate himself.

"Are you alright?" Heavy asked, knowing full well the answer was no. He grimaced inwardly. After all, he'd done this to the poor thing.

"My throat's burnin', but," Scout took a long sip and gulped it down, panting as he finished, "I'll be okay. Fuckin'...holy shit, babe."

"Tried to warn you," the giant mumbled, trying to convince himself more than his lover.

"Yeah," the younger man grunted, slowly pulling himself up to sit, draining the bottle the rest of the way. "So, uh, about those basics you suggested?"

Heavy smiled at that. He'd expected Scout to be furious, to be pissed, to cast aspersions and blame upon him and lace it all with epithets and insults. Instead, he mere looked pale, winded, and embarrassed. He'd never seen the young man so meek, so weak, so little and fragile as he did with all of the colour gone from his face, his whole body in utter distress. It was terrifyingly attractive, and Heavy found himself wanting very much to scoop Scout up into his arms, kiss him everywhere, and take complete advantage of that weakness with his own size and strength, taking him to soothe his discomfort away with pleasure.

It struck Heavy how utterly cruel the thought was. He'd just seen his poor lover retching his guts out, and rather than worry or fear, he was aroused at the mouthy mercenary's vulnerability. Yes, it was definitely his vulnerability. There'd been nothing oddly alluring about the way he'd gagged...

"Big guy?" Scout asked, snapping his fingers. He looked up to Heavy with wide eyes, bright as a cloudless day. "You, uh, you okay?" He clutched at his middle, the ache still strong, his insides still clenching tight against one another, and he could feel the muscles in his belly burning.

"Da," Heavy replied, shaking away such invasive thoughts. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Scout's forehead. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Scout replied with a smile, his eyes ticking down. He wondered if Heavy was even aware of the fact that he was tenting out his sweatpants.

What a freakin' pervert, gettin' all hot and bothered by his boyfriend ralphing into a bucket. With a grin, Scout dove at his lover, forcing Heavy to sit as he caught the gangly spider of a man. He yelped in surprise as wrapped hands went for his sweats and tugged the waist down, exposing him to the comparatively cool air of the gymnasium. "Scout, what--"

Scout's lips were on him almost immediately, and Heavy groaned unabashedly in reply. The younger man wrapped his mouth around the larger man's length, taking the whole of the head in, and let his tongue lave over it. He tickled along the foreskin and forced it back from the sensitive glans, peeking the tip of his tongue under the crown on either side before coming back to undulate against the frenulum. It was fast, intense, and terribly skilled, and the giant's hand came to rest at the back of Scout's head, his other shaking as he dug his nails into the canvas of the boxing ring.

It was ludicrous how excitedly Scout slurped along his cock, eager and lost in the oral pleasure of the weighty, firm heat in his mouth. Heavy panted, his breaths shallow and quiet as he watched the younger man's head bob. How did he have this much energy left in him after all he'd been through? How could he handle this with his throat burning? The giant licked his lips and seared the sight into his mind, baffled yet uncaring. It didn't matter, the answer. Scout was sucking his dick like he was being paid, and as a wrapped hand began to knead gently as his balls, Heavy quickly lost himself in the wet heat of his lover's ministrations.

The slim mercenary's stomach hitched as he bobbed deeper, taking more of Heavy into his mouth, pressing insistently against his soft palate. He tasted so good, felt so good, warm and perfect between his lips, and it made Scout feel so right to have him there, lavishing the giant man's hot flesh with his tongue and relishing the sounds he drew out. The soft breaths, the quiet moans, it was beautiful, and just barely drowned out by the sound of blunt nails digging into his scalp. He backed off, took a breath, and clenched his abs, moving down his length again. Scout took him deeper, opening his throat to let Heavy in.

His throat stung and burned, wrecked by the acid that had surged out of it. Heavy rubbed him raw, but the heat soothed him all the same. He could feel thick mucous beginning to shield his throat in response to its trauma; increasing as he was invaded by the girthy shaft. It hurt, and it was so good, and Scout held his breath as he felt his stomach clench again, his whole torso lurching around a silent gag.

Heavy hissed, the sight of his lover shuddering, pitching forward and grasping at his middle as he slavered over the cock in his throat making his own insides grow tight. The warm thrum of pleasure ebbing through him, making his moan, was nothing compared to the gurgling groans of discomfort and disgust burbling around the thick saliva and mucous in Scout's throat and mouth. The hand at the back of the younger man's head held him tighter as he began to hitch. That tongue didn't stop, the bobbing didn't stop, but Scout looked absolutely miserable.

The giant grit his teeth, forcing Scout's head down, forcing himself deeper into the runner's throat, and felt it open, spasms of muscle rippling around him. Scout whimpered, his body wracked with heavy shudders, guttural, retching gags escaping his mouth from around Heavy's cock. His muscles all clenched, his stomach rising with nothing to push out, and his felt like his torso was collapsing. It made his hands shake, tears welling in his eyes and beginning to spill over as he heaved dry again and again. He tried to pull away, but Heavy wouldn't release him, and with his fingers tangled in the fabric of the giant's sweats, he could have easily slapped him, tapped him, signaled that this was too much.

But he didn't. Instead, he felt like his insides were trying to climb out of his throat, crumpling up like an old can under a truck tire, gagging and sobbing as Heavy fucked his throat, and with a roar, came down it, his come the only thing to fill Scout's empty belly.

Sliding down from his high, Heavy tugged Scout off of himself, picking up the poor, aching creature and gathering him into his arms. He clutched him tightly, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks and forehead. "Moy krolik, am so sorry! Are you okay?"

Scout cleaved to Heavy's chest, limp and pale, aching and completely wrought-out. He gasped for breath, and his throat hurt so much. "Oh yeah. I feel like shit, but I'm way okay," he groaned, surprised Heavy hadn't noticed the raging erection pressing against the giant's belly. "Pretty sure you win round one."

**Author's Note:**

> a belated birthday gift to tumblr user sergeantweenie


End file.
